


with the taste of death

by magisterequitum



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Post S4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:37:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterequitum/pseuds/magisterequitum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He finds her drinking emptiness in a highball of whiskey in a sleepy little coal town.</p><p>(Silas had shown them what real monsters were.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	with the taste of death

He finds her drinking emptiness in a highball of whiskey in a sleepy little coal town. 

 

 

 

Once, she'd dreamed of monsters. Horrible and terrible, morphing from what the stories told to real life beings that ate away at everything she'd ever constructed. Her nights had been non-stop full of dreams that left her sweaty and choking on air. 

Silas had shown them what real nightmares were. 

She didn't think she'd ever forget the sound of bones and skin crunching and sluicing off to puddle on the ground, or the withered and time worn gray faces as those she'd loved stared up at her. 

She'd never been one to run, but Silas had given her no reason to stay. 

Elena buries the dead and dips her fingers in the dirt of their graves. She rubs her lips with dirty fingers and then she leaves. 

 

 

 

West Virginia smells of clean air and ash all at the same time. 

She finds herself in a small town nestled between the hills and the mountains and then she just stops moving; she's driven herself around the country, lost herself in the blacktop and yellow tick marks of the road, and there'd been nothing there for her, but there's nothing not here for her either. 

She wakes up screaming, fists clenching the musty smelling daisy printed comforter of the motel room. 

She sinks her fangs into the shoulder of the neighbor that comes knocking on her door two minutes later. 

Wiping the blood from her mouth and their skin, she sends them on with a smile she's practiced for too long. 

 

 

 

Her whiskey glass is dirty and smudged, even before she'd started drinking from it, and she sits in a cracked booth in the bar; water hole, they called them here. The music box bleats out something her mother might have danced to in the kitchen once; she doesn't think of that. The bartender has cracked pink polish on her fingers and a wrist with a beating pulse. 

They don't know of vervain here. 

The door opens and ash air spills in, tickling her nose, but the cool night brings with it another scent that she knows too well. 

Elena swings her head up from where she's busy picking wood splinter out of the table, and peers at the figure in the doorway. If she still had humor and a reason, she'd laugh at his clean cut suit when everyone else in the place had on Wal-mart and flannel shirts. She raises her chin and bares her throat as he walks towards her. She's not seen him for months on end now. She'd thought him dead too maybe; or maybe not since she'd been alive and how did one kill that which was too much of yourself. 

When he sits across from her, his hands make sure to stay on his suit jacket, a raised eyebrow showing his disgust at the entire place. 

She tips the end of her glass towards him, a wry smile creeping over her face despite her brain saying not to. "You don't quite fit in here." 

Elijah stares at her with dark glass eyes. The music switches over to something else. His jaw works, a tiny tick that someone lesser might not see. "Neither do you, Elena." 

 

 

 

Mystic Falls had burned in the end. 

She'd dreamed of that too. Her memories filled with flames that licked at her face and greeted her with too easy familiarity. 

Him too, and it'd been lies and lies stretching back to another fire and a time when teeth had torn into her throat. 

She dreams too much these days. 

 

 

 

If she'd thought his face had contorted in disgust at the bar, it's nothing to his scornful eyes as he prowls around her motel room. 

He flicks his gaze to the daisy stained comforter. 

"What are you doing here?" _how did you find me._

He turns to her, head abruptly swinging to where she stands with arms folded around her against the wall. He's too dark in the room with no lights. Even to her eyes that can see more than ever, he's too dark. Hair, suit, eyes, all the makeup of a shadow that stands across from her. "I have not stopped moving." 

Restless energy and a relentless something chasing them and dead bodies in the rear..

 

 

 

Her fingers are tight claws against his scalp when he kneels down on the just as stained carpet. He's no less dangerous, the line of his shoulders predatory even as his nose brushes against her bare skin. 

He doesn't wait, and doesn't tease, just buries his face between her legs and licks at her, tongue pressing inside her cunt. It's wet and obscene and she can smell herself in the room. His teeth scrape against her clit, a bright flare of pain that slides into pleasure. She bites her lip and her throat makes needy noises that she can't quiet. 

His thumb presses harshly against her hipbone, making the bone creak and nearly crack. 

She curls her toes into the carpet when he brings her off, her thighs shaking and her breath caught in her throat. 

He sinks his teeth into her thigh for one brief pull of hot blood, and then the only warning she has is his large hands cupping her hips before she's on the floor and he's over her, fucking her into the stained carpet with the smell of ash and coal in the air. 

His mouth is slick with her orgasm and her blood when he kisses her. 

 

 

 

She thinks maybe he's surprised to find her standing beside his car back at the bar. A sleek black thing with low wheels and no license plate. He eyes her over the roof, head tilted, face still. 

The door's unlocked. 

He hadn't really been looking for her, and she'd not been looking for anyone, but there's something that plagues her dreams and there's something that's set him moving just as it has her; there's something too to say that he won't stop and she can't. 

Elena opens the door.


End file.
